Past, Present, Future
by ImaginaryHomeforFriends
Summary: The Family of Blood is hunting the Doctor in his Eleventh regeneration, so he goes into hiding in London 2003 as a human, as none other than Jimmy Stone, where he meets a flustered Rose Tyler. (11th/Rose, Rory/Amy)


_Past/Future – Place: TARDIS. Time: 2010 (Earth years.)_

_The Doctor spun around the TARDIS controls, flipping switches and turning knobs and really doing nothing of importance as he waited for the Ponds. River silently followed in his wake, deflipping switches and pulling down levers so the impatient and quite bored Doctor wouldn't blow up the TARDIS in the very foul mood he was getting himself into. Usually the TARDIS could stop herself from blowing up when the Doctor decided to push and pull and click random things that should never be pushed and pulled and clicked all together but River decided that the poor girl needed a break from keeping herself together._

"_Where are your parents?!" The Doctor finally shouted, flipping his wrist in a dramatic flourish to look at the watch. It had several hands, three parts that glowed in different hues, and other such things that watches just didn't do, unless they belonged to the Doctor that is. Even after all her years she knew the Doctor, River still had no idea how that watch told time, there were no numbers on it. "All of time and space at their finger tips and what do they do with it? Stay in bed, well I am not waiting around for them- not again. It is time to go Ponds!" The Doctor walked out of the room, down the hall, taking a sharp left, and down another hall until reaching the third door on the right and barging right in._

"_They don't seem to be in here sweetie." River said helpfully from behind the mad Time Lord._

"_Well that's rude." The Doctor spun on his heel and gave the Tardis a nudge with his mind, feeling the old girl nudge back and he was suddenly racing down the halls to a place where the two Ponds should not- definitely never, ever be!_

_The Doctor came to a stop outside the door of one particular room that had never been moved to the TARDIS's back-up drive. His throat tightened and his two hearts gave a simultaneous lurch, threatening to stop working but that was quite ridiculous, he was a Time Lord, the last of his kind and the sight of a mere room shouldn't be doing this to him. But it had been a long time since he had seen this room, never with these new eyes either. It was all bright colors. Pink and yellow and white and blues, it should have clashed and been a hideous mess but it wasn't. It was inviting- the bed big and comfortable. He remembered laying on that bed, back when he wore trainers and a trench coat, waiting for a blonde girl to finish getting ready as he read her poetry from other worlds, it never failed to make her laugh. There- just there, he could see an indent in the pink and green covers, as if he had just gotten up from there. Clothes were strewn about- his past self's favorite ties was hanging on the corner of the wardrobe. There was a yellow trainer (hers) sticking out from under the bed and all sorts of wonderful knickknacks lined the dresser top._

"_Doctor, out of all the rooms I've looked in I've never seen one that actually looked like someone was using it." Amy snapped him out of his trance as she picked up one knickknack that had been glowing softly blue and spinning atop the dresser._

"All of time and space, Rose, all those aliens and other words and even other dimensions you've been to and you think a glowing top that will never stop is amazing? Really?"_ The Doctor closed his eyes briefly before opening them and staring around the room once more._

"_Krencon!" The Doctor shouted, making everyone jump._

"_What are you shouting about?" Amy asked, placing the top back on the dresser but it had stopped glowing and stopped spinning. She had placed it on top of the one thing the Doctor didn't want any of them to see._

"_Krencon! That's where we're going to next, you will love this Amelia Pond, the people have actual wings, it'll be fabulous!" He cringed and threaded his fingers together. "I have never said that before and I never will again." The Doctor swung an arm around her shoulders and pulled her out quickly. River gave the room a last look before following behind them._

_Rory picked up the top, making it glow again and set it on it's tip, watching as it started to spin before he started to walk out when something caught his eye. He picked up the photobooth picture. There was a young girl, maybe in her early 20's, with blonde hair pulled back in a pony tail with a few pieces falling out. She had on a blue top and a wide smile for the camera. Next to her was a man with crazy hair, which was saying something since the Doctor's hair was utterly ridiculous sometimes, a huge smile, and a blue and brown swirly tie. Rory set the picture down, right where the dust had left a perfect indent of where it had been._

_Rory walked out but not before noticing the blue and brown swirly tie hanging from the wardrobe. He fingered the fine silk tie before leaving the room, carefully closing the door behind him and walking down the hall with a frown._

_Who were those two people? Companions of the Doctors obviously but where had they gone without all their stuff? The room hadn't been used in quite some time and Rory felt his stomach drop at the obvious answer. Whoever had occupied that room had left too quickly to grab anything. Rory knew how dangerous this life was, he had died several times so he was well aware of the risk._

_But something itched at the back of his skull. Something about that tie. Something familiar yet out of reach._

Present/Past – Place: Earth. Time: 2003.

Rose's eyes were glued to her book. Maths was not her best subject, nor was it her favorite but if she wanted to pass her A-Levels than she knew she needed to understand it. Too bad it seemed like it was written in a completely different language. If only she could just have some sort of machine that could simply reprogram her mind to make her understand maybe then she wouldn't be close to tears.

Rose reached blindly for a highlighter, every one of her books and her notes were covered in multicolored high-lighted sections that did nothing to help her except perhaps distract her a bit from the all-consuming feeling of utter failure.

"No thank you, I will not give up just yet." Rose muttered to herself, if only to hear some sound outside of her over worked, exhausted, and slightly melted brain. She stretched her arm farther after not finding a high-lighter in her first blind attempt. Her hand smacked into something and she gasped, her head turning in seemingly slow motion to see her cup of tea tip over and spill over her English notes. "Bloody hell you've got to be kiddin' me!" Rose let her head drop onto the desk as she watched out of the corner of her eye the tea spread and thoroughly ruin everything in its path. "I'm English! You're not suppose to turn again me, not you tea, you're suppose to be forever on my side!"

Rose sat up with a groan. She was, quite obviously, losing her mind. What she needed was a bit of fresh air. Yes, that's exactly what she needed. And perhaps a pint. Never mind she wasn't old enough, she knew what pubs would serve her. Maybe two pints. It's not like her mum would be home anytime soon. She was dating a sailor, or perhaps it was a contractor- but no matter, she wouldn't be home for a while. Not until the bloke ultimately broke her heart because that's what they always did. Rose couldn't even really blame them for it either. It was just the type of guy her mum went after. Rose had long ago promised herself she would never go after any bloke who wasn't well settled, even if he was amazingly good looking. It just seemed daft, to Rose's sensible 17 year old mind, to go after someone who was obviously going to break your heart because he was constantly on the move.

Rose grabbed her wallet, shoving some money into her jean pocket before walking out of the flat and down the stairs. She was, quite honestly, barely keeping herself together. She felt ridiculous for wanting to cry over some spilled tea but her emotions were running all amok with her. All her friends were talking about Universities they were applying to and the future and Rose felt like she was stuck, rooted to one place. She would fail her A-Levels, work at Hendriks, and live in the Powell Estates for the rest of her life. She'd get married way too young, have far too many children and grow up to resent everyone, herself most of all.

It was just so hard, so very difficult because Rose had no idea what she wanted to do with the rest of her life and she wanted to give a good smack to everyone around her for making her feel like she was somehow inadequate because of this. She felt like she had all this potential, this burning feeling inside of her to **do something** but she hadn't the foggiest idea of what to do.

Rose was tired of being the shop girl from the bad side of London. Sick of people comparing her to her mum, who she loved but frankly besides the angry looks she could pull off quite well, they were nothing alike. No one expected anything from her, except perhaps failure. Even her mum didn't expect her to pass her A-Levels so why was she even bothering? Because- well that was the problem, wasn't it? She had no idea why she was putting herself through this torture. It's not like she cared what people thought of her- okay maybe she cared a little, but even if she somehow managed to pass it's not like she could ever afford a higher education.

Rose walked into the college pub that she knew sold to minors due to the fact that they were always overcrowded and never checked ID's. Which worked just fine for Rose. She fancied that she looked a bit like a Uni student anyways, with her hair pulled up, and pen marks all over her hands. She tried not to feel young and stupid and immature, but project an air of a proper college girl.

Rose pushed her way to the bar and motioned to the bartender. He gave her a nod, his hair flopping into one eye before he flicked his head to move it out of the way. The pub hired cute blokes, and beautiful girls to bartend, usually from the University itself and he certainly fit the profile. He was tall and skinny, slightly ungainly but he had an air of confidence that said 'Yes, so what if I've spilled more beer on myself than I've served? I'm still more intelligent and better dressed and all around a better person than you.' It made the corners of Rose's mouth twitch upwards as she gave this nameless bartender a background. It was something she always found herself doing, it always put her in a better mood.

He probably had some common, boring name but he wouldn't want that so as soon as he graduated and went off to college he would change it. When introducing himself to new people he would give them his new name, it'd become common for people to call him that and they wouldn't question it until they learned his real name. But he would be very charming, a real people person (he is, after all, a bartender) so his mates would just laugh about his real name. Judging from his clothes he was probably something ridiculous like a Philosophy major. He probably quoted poetry, or lines from Confucius or Muhammad to pretty girls and to win arguments with his equally as prissy and ridiculous friends.

Rose watched as he began to fill a pint, looking up to give her a smile and in that small moment he managed to overfill the mug and nearly drop it. He managed to grab it just in time but the unfortunate vodka bottle that his elbow hit in his mad dash to save the mug wasn't so fortunate. Rose looked at the mess the vodka made before looking up into green eyes as he placed the mug in front of her.

"Aren't you goin' to clean that up?" Rose heard herself asking before she even realized it was happening. She wrapped a hand around the mug, her fingers becoming sticky with the beer that had dripped down the sides.

"I would but everytime I try to clean something up I seem to make a bigger mess so they told me to stop." He gave her a wide smile, full of teeth and smile and Rose felt herself returning it as she dug out cash from her pocket.

"Either you are unbelievably clumsy or an evil mastermind who has come up with the perfect way to get out of cleanin' up messes." Rose slid the money over to him and he took it with another grin, his fingers brushing against hers.

"I'll let you figure out which then-" He paused for her name and Rose took a sip of her beer before grinning at him over the rim.

"Rose, Rose Tyler." She held out her sticky palm and he clasped it with his equally sticky palm.

"Rose Tyler?" Here it came, the quoting of Shakespeare that made her want to travel back in time to give a good smack to the legend himself, or perhaps just to throttle her parents when they thought it'd be a good idea to name her that. His green eyes got a bit cloudly, like he was remembering something, like how the line went and she could quote it for him even though she's never read any of the plays herself. "That's a brilliant name." He gave her hand a soft squeeze, and Rose felt herself relax slightly even though the handshake should have ended a bit ago. "Nice to meet you Rose Tyler, I'm Jimmy Stone and if you'd like a pint knocked onto you just give me a wave." He gave another soft squeeze before releasing her, his long fingers brushing against her palm before the hand disappeared out of sight, behind the bar.

Rose stood up and walked over to the corner of the pub, her hand tingling but she ignored that. It's just because she had been studying for so long she had forgotten what human contact felt like. That had to be it.

Jimmy Stone watched the girl walk away with dark green eyes before he looked down at his hand. It looked the same as always, familiar and unchanged with long lean fingers and callouses on his palms and a permanent mark on his ring finger where his pen rested. He stretched his fingers and glanced up but could not spot the blonde girl over the crowd.

Rose Tyler. The name echoed in his head, ghostly fingers brushing against his subconscious and too soft whispers of something from the past.

"Ello, Jimmy, anyone home?" Jimmy snapped out of his reverie and smiled at a familiar face but he couldn't place the name of the person. Most of the people in this pub knew him by name but he was awful with names. Except one that kept repeating in his mind.

_Rose Tyler, Rose Tyler, Rose Tyler…_


End file.
